In the Belly of the Beast
by Iloveplotbunnies
Summary: When she and he met on their usual Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evenings, Red John made it his priority to knock her back into her second skin. TL/RJ


**Title: **In the Belly of the Beast

**Disclaimer: **I've never owned _The Mentalist_, so why start now?

**Rating: **M for adult situations.

**Summary: **When she and he met on their usual Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evenings, Red John made it his priority to knock her back into her second skin. TL/RJ.

This is something I wrote a while back, but never got around to posting it until Gray Doll poked me into it. :P Haha.

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"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Red John asked her, his pink lips curled into the tiniest of smirks. Teresa Lisbon glanced up at him from on her knees, bare of all clothing, her arms tied behind her back and her mouth gagged with one of his used socks. She had once already tried to push the material from her mouth, and her bottom was still sore from where he had taken her over his knee and spanked her with his wooden paddle. "Fighting does you absolutely no good, as you're mine till I say otherwise."

She shook her head and her dark hair fell into her eyes, providing her with some barrier.

"Now, you just look sloppy. Didn't your mother ever teach you how to dress and style your hair?" Heat pooled in her cheeks at his comment, before she felt his gloved hand brush the hair from her eyes. In response, she glared at him. "Narrow those eyes elsewhere, you intolerant brat, or I'll spank you again."

She quickly diverted her eyes and she felt him touch her chin, forcing her to glance at him again. "If you weren't slagging around with Patrick, I might have once considered fucking you. However, I don't do sloppy seconds or sluts."

To no avail, she tried to push the gag from her mouth again and he smacked her—hard—across the face. "What did I warn you about earlier, hm? Do you need another spanking, pet?"

His tone filled her with anger. She wasn't a dog! She was a human being, who deserved better than the bullshit he was currently handing out. Red John's smirk grew. "Don't like, Teresa? I'm only using a tone that a bitch, like you, would understand."

She struggled against her bonds and he slapped her face again, causing her teeth to sink down into her tongue. "You're usually such a good girl when we have these sessions, Teresa. What happened? Did Patrick not whore you out today, leash and all?" Lisbon fixed him with another glare and he laughed. "I honestly wonder what Patrick would say if he could see you now; down on your knees, a cherry red bottom to boot. I'd say he would appreciate the sight like I do." And he was definitely aroused, she noted silently.

Lisbon felt his gloved hand caress her still-sore bottom and she couldn't help the fluttering of her eyes or the heat that coursed through her body at his touch. "If you wet the floor again, you truly have no regards for my continuing kindness." She felt his fingers pinch at her bottom, before he moved his hands to her twist at her nipples. Lisbon let out a low moan and he chuckled, bemused. "Yes, dog, bark for me."

Aroused and thoroughly embarrassed by his comment, Lisbon glanced down at the floor in submission—her face, reddened and her body trembling from the chill in the air. If Jane _ever _discovered her dirty secret—her need to have her entire life dominated—he'd demand that she be locked up in a psychiatric hospital; but he would never understand how tired she was of dominating everyone else. Within the CBI, as Special Agent Teresa Lisbon, she barked orders and allowed "bad living" as he called it, to destroy every inch of her.

However, when she and he met on their usual Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evenings, Red John made it his priority to knock her back into her second skin. He made sure she got plenty of sleep, made sure she ate healthily and above all, he kept her safe in all of their sexual games. She had her safe word—word here—and he had his—word here—but neither of them had ever found a reason to end it all.

She was happy. He was satisfied.

They had their boundaries, of course; he couldn't demand her to bring him Jane and in turn, she couldn't arrest (or kill) him until Jane learned of his identity. During their evenings together, he wasn't a serial killer and she wasn't an agent of the law—he was her master and she was just his submissive.

Red John interrupted her from her thoughts, as he pulled the gag from her mouth and stroked the bottom of her chin. She remained quiet.

"You're doing much better, Teresa," he told her, softly and she kept her eyes on the ground. "I know the insults sting, but I would never say anything to truly hurt you. I just want you to know your place, so the punishments stop." She knew exactly what he was hinting at too and she trembled at the thought of _anything _plugging her heat again. Lisbon closed her eyes and felt his hands undo the ropes around her wrists, while she tried to control her trembling; she didn't want to look weak in his eyes, but she couldn't take another day of the oversized plug. Red John hadn't asked if it felt good within her, so she supposed the plugging was a punishment for her sass nearly two weeks prior. She felt his bare hands slide under her bottom and she yelped, as he brought her into a cradling position against his chest.

Green met blue. "It hurt, didn't it?" She said nothing and he sighed, his blue eyes becoming nearly gray. "You could have used your safe word, Teresa. I wouldn't have blamed you, and I would have pulled the plug out."

"No safe word," she muttered into his chest, which smelled of cleaning agent and pine. "I can take it."

"Was it too large? Or too small?" She said nothing again. "Teresa, I command that you tell me."

She sighed. "It was too big." From the corner of her eye, she watched him nod.

"I'm quite disappointed that you didn't tell me, Teresa," Red John answered, a frown across his face. "I'm supposed to take care of you, not let you suffer. I'm not sure what you think our relationship is, but I'm your master and your safety is my number one priority."

"I could handle it…," she repeated and without warning, she felt one of his fingers slide into her center and rub. A sharp, stabbing pain from between her legs turned her moan of pleasure into a yelp of pain.

"Just as I thought," Red John replied, as she closed her eyes. "You're bleeding." She felt him moving her, until something soft pressed up against her stomach. "Open your eyes, you silly girl. I should punish you for keeping quiet, but I think the pain you've suffered for the past week is enough." She opened her eyes and sighed in relief, as she realized she was lying face down on his bed. Lisbon felt Red John's gloveless hand run across her bottom and she moaned at the cooling sensation across her warmed flesh. "While I do quite enjoy the lovely shade of bruising across your round ass, Teresa, sitting down at work must be a chore."

"It is," she shyly admitted, thinking back to his temper a few weeks ago. She had just taken off all her clothes and had kneeled on the ground, when he had come in and had forced her over his knee; the wooden paddle in his hands. Until after he had finished and she hadn't been able to sit for nearly six hours, he had explained that her punishment was "well-deserved" as she had been stupid enough to almost get herself blown to kingdom come by not taking backup with her.

That week, it had taken several pillows stuffed within her work chair to help her sit without being in pure agony.

Lisbon opened her mouth, when she felt Red John's fingers slide inside of her again. Coolness soothed the throbbing ache within, almost instantly, and she moaned in relief.

"Now that I've helped you again, Teresa, you…"

"I do owe you, sir," Lisbon replied, smiling slightly. "Thank you…"

"I can think of a few ways on how to thank me, Teresa." Lisbon couldn't see his smile from her position, but the grin in his voice told her all was forgiven. She wouldn't be plugged again. She wouldn't be spanked again. He just wanted her to pleasure him, which was something she could do. Lisbon, careful to keep her bottom off the plum velvet comforter, scooted closer to the edge of the bed and used her fingers to undo his belt buckle; Red John's dress pants fell past his ankles, before she yanked his boxers down.

She took in the sight of arousal, before her lips fit over the head of his penis and she sucked. Red John's low guttural moans filled her with a sense of pride and accomplishment, as she felt his hands bury themselves within her hair and tug him to her. The salty taste of his semen eventually hit the back of her throat and she fought against her need to vomit by swallowing every bit of him.

He pinched her arm and she reluctantly let him go, but not before savoring his juices on her tongue with one final lick. Red John eyed her, a smirk across his face, as she worked at licking the remainder of him from her lips. "I don't think I told you to finish me off, Teresa."

"You never told me not to either," she reminded him, hiding her slight smile.

Red John playfully swatted her backside. "Has anyone ever told you that you're an insufferable brat?"

"I'm _your _insufferable brat," she replied, before she felt him straddling her hips.

"That you are, Teresa," Red John agreed, nudging himself inside of her. "That you are."


End file.
